by CW Ullman
“What about Darla, Tobie?”
“Don’t you think Darla will be okay with it? You’ve known her longer than me,” Rusty answered.
That night after Rusty called My Ling and offered to go to Lotus Blossom to provide security, she told him she would come up to Manhattan Beach and talk to the Knights.
Friday of that week My Ling, Dao, Di.u and her sister Trieu came to Dockweiler Beach. Also in attendance were the six former sailors from the Enterprise, plus Charlie’s parents, Colleen and Chris, and Darla.
“Let me first tell you about the orphanage. It is situated up in the northeast part of Cambodia on a mountain with an elevation a thousand feet above the Tonle San River. The orphanage is between the river and a town called Pak Nhai on Highway 78. It’s about five miles from the Vietnam border. There are roving gangs, drug lords, and corruption.
“Even though Lotus Blossom is a sanctuary for girls, it is also hated by sex slavers who periodically make raids to take the girls back. Some of these men are warlords.
“Thanh, the brother of Colonel Cin, is able to summon the Cham people to help him beat back some of the raids, but he has to be careful. If he creates too much war with the gangs, it will bring attention on him and he is a wanted man in Vietnam. If you go there, you run the risk of being seen as American mercenaries helping a renegade outlaw. And the Cham can have reprisals committed upon them once they go back to their villages by the warlords, corrupt police, gangs, or the army.
“The Cham were almost eliminated in the genocide conducted by the Khmer Rouge in 1975 and ’76. They help when they can, but they’re still wary of being too visible.”
“Okay, when do we leave,” Rusty blurted out.
Everyone laughed and Ronnie slapped his friend on the shoulder in the spirit of solidarity.
“Before you go you have to learn some Vietnamese and Khmer, the language of Cambodia. Do you know anything about guns? You may need to defend yourself and others,” My Ling cautioned.
“Where do we learn Vietnamese?” Ronnie asked.
“I’m going to learn with you. You can teach me,” Rusty urged.
Seeing My King’s perplexed expression Dao spoke up, “Rusty, I can teach you and Ronnie. My Ling has her hands full helping Hao and working at the Probation Department.”
“Okay, can we start tomorrow? What time?” Rusty pushed.
“Tomorrow will be fine. Why don’t the two of you come to the house at three,” Dao suggested.
“I can help,” Di.u offered.
“Wow, that was quick,” Charlie mused.
Chris Palmer wanted to add a note of caution, “This is not cowboy stuff. You have to keep your head down and be invisible like My Ling said. You can cause more trouble than help if you gum things up.”
My Ling affirmed Chris, “He’s right. The first months there, you need to learn language, customs, and the culture. If word gets out there are American ex-military stationed in the compound that’s bad.”
“Let’s toast the mission for the Mission,” said Ronnie with a raised beer.
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That night Rusty spoke with his wife and daughter, “I never talked with you about this and Charlie said I should.”
“I don’t know that we have anything to talk about. It sounds like you’ve made up your mind,” Darla accused.
“We just got you back, and now you’re leaving,” his daughter, Tobie, murmured sadly.
“Let me ask a question what if I were to go to Cambodia and you stayed home to be Tobie’s father for awhile?” Darla pointedly asked.
Rusty listened.
“You’re testing the limits of my patience, Mr. Armstrong. I know you feel a debt to My Ling that you need to repay, but you have to broaden your view of life to include us: the party faithful. We’ve been sacrificing everything to keep you as the top priority: who’s home with Dad, has he been fed, does he need a ride, where is he, is he accosting some poor Asian girl, and how do we deflect Luemveld?
“Are you mad at me?” Rusty wondered.
“Duh,” Darla replied.
“Daddy, if you want to go – need to go; you should go,” Tobie offered.
“No! He does not get off with ‘go ahead and follow your dream,’” Darla snapped. “We’re family and we make decisions with everybody’s feelings heard, Rusty. You’re not my oldest son; you’re my husband and Tobie’s father. And if it feels like you’re in a straightjacket fulfilling the duties of husband and father, then welcome to the fucking club.” Darla finished, then got up and walked out of the room.
Rusty looked at Tobie who reached for his hand. His hangdog expression touched her and she did not want to heap more criticism on his bewildered shoulders, but she also understood her mother’s feelings.
“Is that how you feel?” Rusty asked.
.She hesitated to share her thoughts looking for a way to soften her woods.
“Tobie, it’s okay, say what you’re feeling,” he assured her.
“It’s different than mom. I just like having you here. I haven’t had a dad my whole life that talked to me. There is lost time that I would like to make up. Mom is kind of pissed all the time and I’m not sure why, but I don’t think it would be fair to her now that you’re…here, to just take off,”
As she started out of the room, she suggested a good place to start would be to clear the pictures of Asian girls’ faces off the wall.
At times, when he thought of the seventeen year stupor, it seemed a short period, almost like waking from a coma. Other times it seemed like eternity. Now, he had pent up energy and he wanted to do something; he had an idea.
He found Darla and proposed “What if we all go to Cambodia?”
“Are you high? They have mosquitoes, snakes, and armed gangs. If I wanted that I’d move to Miami,” Darla quipped. “Besides, we owe Charlie. He took care of you and if we take off, who’s going to manage the shop? Do yourself a favor and talk to Charlie and the knights. You’re pissing me off right now.”
Rusty went into the front of the surf shop and found Charlie.
“Either you hit your thumb with a hammer or Darla just chewed your ass off. I’m picking the latter,” Charlie kidded. He added, “This is about helping My Ling?”
“Yeah.”
“I was waiting for Darla to weigh in on this whole Vietnam, Cambodia deal,” Charlie offered. “Have your plans changed?”
<>
At the same time this was happening in Manhattan Beach, My Ling was realizing a dilemma. She saw the entire endeavor logistically. She needed someone to help her with the planning. She needed someone to sharpen the focus of the mission. The person whose council she most valued was dead. Cin was able to strategize with distractions all around, find a solution, and accomplish the mission. She had to help the orphanage, deploy Americans, not create a stir, raise money, raise her daughter, work a business, be a wife, and not let anyone die in the process.
She was relieved when she received a call from Charlie, who after some small talk got around to the reason for his call.
“I’m just throwing this out there,” Charlie started, “the final call is yours. Rusty is probably not ready to go on this journey for a variety of reasons. Personally, I don’t really know how much help he will be. He just came out of a virtual coma after seventeen years and may need time to get used to…reality.”
“I have been thinking about it and I agree with you. I was considering Ronnie should go first and Rusty come along later,” My Ling added. “But there is one person I would like to talk with and that is your granddaughter, Cecily.”
My Ling had met Cecily on a few occasions and was fascinated by her haphazard clairvoyance. My Ling had a similar experience with a woman who worked on her father’s rice plantation who made predictions to which other people scoffed. My Ling remembered the day she was fired from the estate. She predicted the plantation would be destroyed, the family torn asunder, and that many would die. The woman said My Ling’s father would be killed, her mot
her worked to death, and millions of people slaughtered. Her prophecy came five years before the NVA overran the country and Saigon fell to the North.
My Ling visited the surf shop and told Rusty she initially wanted to take just one person with her and thought Ronnie would be a good fit. Hearing this, Darla had a newfound respect for My Ling. While disappointed, Rusty was relieved. My Ling then left the shop with Charlie and together they took Cecily to play at the beach. Three-year-old Cecily wanted My Ling to pick her up and as she raised Cecily up, a cascading of images happened.
It was the same feeling My Ling had with the woman on her father’s estate. My Ling was not sure if it was her imagination or she was seeing into another dimension. My Ling saw Tuyen, Thanh, and Ronnie. She saw herself swimming, girls from the orphanage, soldiers, men, and a tiger.
Cecily said, “Elvis, too,” and My Ling was unsure if she or someone had told her about the tiger. Cecily leaned into My Ling and sighed, “You see it, too.”
“Yes, yes, I do, Cecily. What does it mean?” My Ling inquired.
“There are people who leave…many leave,” Cecily added. Then she relaxed against My Ling’s neck and went to sleep. My Ling put her down on a blanket and turned to Charlie.
“I know. She’s a freak,” Charlie answered the amazed look on My Ling’s face. ”I don’t fully understand it. She just randomly says things.”
“Do you ask her about the future?” My Ling asked.
“About a thousand times. Ronnie wanted to know how she was at picking lottery numbers. One thing is fairly predictable: when she bonds with someone it kicks off a motion picture in her head. Sometimes when she is involved or witnessing an intense emotional moment, she’ll see something,” Charlie related. “The other predictable thing is it’s completely unpredictable.”
Cecily, who appeared to be sleeping, said, “Don Padre.”
My Ling’s jaw dropped and Charlie asked, “What?”
“He is a man I know who will teach Ronnie about weapons. I never said anything to her or anyone about him…”
“Don’t even ask. I don’t know. Like I said she’s a freak. I love her, but my granddaughter is a freak,” Charlie kidded.
<>
My Ling called Don Padre from a public phone then hung up, and two hours later met him at the coffee shop of their previous rendezvous.
“Who do you want me to kill this time? And if you’re wearing a wire, I’m only kidding,” Don Padre began.
“I want you to teach a friend of mine how to shoot and field strip an AK47, a .45, an M16, an M60, Glock, Berretta and an Uzi,” My Ling directed.
“Hold on, sister. Do I look like the Defense Department?” Don Padre joked.
“You forget I’ve seen the weapons your crew has been busted with,” My Ling stated.
“Why does this guy need all this weaponry?”
“He’s going to an orphanage,” My Ling said and was interrupted by Don Padre.
“The kids are that bad you gotta come armed?” he chuckled.
My Ling smiled, “The kids are all right, but he’s going to Cambodia and the gangs are pretty bad. He will be supporting a friend of mine who takes girls out of the sex trade business and gives them a home.”
“Why do you need guns for that?”
“My friend steals the girls from warlords or pimps and they don’t like it.”
Don Padre’s facial expression changed, surprising My Ling, “How old are these girls?”
“Some are as young as five.”
She watched his jaw tighten and heard him muttering in Spanish. His face darkened and he grimaced so his eye brows dropped onto the bridge of his nose. He stared at the steering wheel, “Five years old?” Then he reeled off more Spanish expletives. “Give my number to your friend. Have him call me in a week. It’s gonna take me awhile to get the M60 and the Uzi. Tell him to call from a pay phone and hang up. Two hours after he calls, we meet here.”
“One week,” My Ling confirmed.
He nodded, “One last question, are my phones still being tapped?”
“Well, let me put it this way: for Mexicans, you guys order a lot of pizza,” she said, making Don Padre laugh.
She drove away from the meeting realizing she liked Don Padre. On a visceral level she understood him and there was an element about him that reminded her of Cin. His rough, ruthless fiber resonated with her. They depended only on themselves and saw the world divided between the capable and the useless.
Hao had the same acumen when it came to taking care of business. He was calculated, rational, and made sure everybody did their job. There was always accountability; either the job was done correctly or it was not. But Cin and Don Padre had hearts for the defenseless, the innocent, and the young. While their reputations painted them as harsh, their real selves were caring tribal leaders, looking out for their people. They did not suffer fools, troublemakers, or betrayal, no matter who was involved. Outside threats were dealt with and law enforcement was another type of gang.
Don Padre understood the rules and held his crew close to the dictum. His laws were simple: take care of the family, don’t go to war against overwhelming odds (which also meant don’t fight with the authorities), demand and give respect, know your job, and lastly, don’t fuck up.
Like Cin, he was smart and of the jungle. They had a common language that needed few words.
Ronnie met Don Padre and followed him a to friend’s house in the nearby countryside where he saw an overwhelming array of weapons.
Don Padre said, “No questions about me or my life. Understand?”
A frightened Ronnie nodded. He trusted My Ling, but he had never known a real Mexican gangbanger. Don Padre was covered in prison tattoos and did not smile or make small talk. He was ex-marine who had fought in Operation Desert Storm.
“My name is Don Padre and your name is Cabron (fag or goat). You will do what I say. If you fuck up or hurt anyone, I will send your head back to Korea.”
“I’m Japanese-Ameri-” Ronnie tried to interject, thinking Don Padre might like Japanese more than Koreans.
“I don’t give care if you’re Bruce Lee. We are not friends. I don’t like you and I’m doing this as a favor to the Asian lady. If you piss me off, I will beat your dumbass. Do you understand, Cabron?” Don Padre had to suppress laughter watching Ronnie sweating buckets.
“Cabron, this is an M60; it is belt fed. This is how you load it, this is the safety, and this is the trigger. Do you understand, Cabron?” Ronnie nodded. “Get on your fat chink belly and aim at the target. Now, look down the barrel-,” Don Padre was interrupted when Ronnie squeezed the trigger prematurely and got off thirty rounds. Don Padre pulled Ronnie’s hand off the gun, and then using his Raider’s baseball cap, slapped Ronnie repeatedly on top of his head.
“Dumbass, what is your name?” Don Padre shouted.
“Cabron?” Ronnie meekly responded.
“No, your real name,” Don Padre shouted.
“Ronnie.”
“Ronnie, you’d fuck up a one man rock fight. Pay attention or I’m sending your Cabron ass home and this little exercise is over,” Don Padre shouted. Ronnie nodded.
Ronnie composed himself and eventually fired all the weapons. Don Padre taught Ronnie how to break down and reassemble the weapons. When they were finished, Don Padre felt Ronnie was going to need much more instruction. My Ling said Don Padre could charge Ronnie for his time.
“Cabron, you are dumber than a bag of hammers. You will come out here everyday for the next two weeks. You will break down weapons and reassemble them until you are so good, you can do it while getting a blow job. Right now you are going to give me five hundred dollars and I won’t kill you. If you do better tomorrow, it will only cost you three hundred dollars. I want you to go to Buck’s Sporting Goods in Anaheim and buy rounds for an M16, a.45, and a nine millimeter. Do you understand, Cabron?” Don Padre finished.
Ronnie nodded.
“Raphael here will be you instructor for th
e next two weeks. He has permission to kill you if you fuck up. Raphael, do you like chinks?” A scowling Raphael shook his head. “Cabron, I wouldn’t piss off Raphael.” Ronnie nodded. “Do you know how to get out of here? Ronnie nodded. “Good. Always come alone. That means don’t bring any of your chink friends. If you do, I will kill your entire family. Now get the fuck out of here.”
Ronnie ran to his car and drove off. Once he was out of sight, Don Padre and Raphael burst out laughing.
<>
Over the next two weeks Ronnie became adept at breaking down all the guns, except the Uzi, which had a dowel at the back of the trigger box that was difficult to pop out. He had also become an expert shot with all the weapons and was able to hit targets over three hundred yards away.
On the last day he disassembled and reassembled all the weapons while Don Padre held a stop watch and tossed golf balls at him. Ronnie was also able to hit all of the targets. When he was done, he stood looking at Raphael and Don Padre.
“What are you waiting for, a badge? Your badge is stay alive in Cambodia. Any questions?”
Ronnie shook his head.
“We’re done. Remember, keep your gun clean and your head down.”
Don Padre and Raphael were surprised when Ronnie walked up to them and extended his hand. There was an awkward moment before the two vatos shook his hand.
“Thanks for your help,” Ronnie said.
<>
My Ling summoned Ronnie to her house to go over the itinerary and Tiger Girl’s distinction in Southeast Asia..
“Tiger Girl may be considered a threat to the governments of Southeast Asia,” My Ling explained. “Because I’m the widow of Colonel Cin, the native people in Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam see Tiger Girl as the vanguard against their oppression. The government of Vietnam wants me arrested. So we are going to travel separately, because if you travel with me and I get arrested, so will you.” She went on to explain the entire story of the colonel and his status to Southeast Asian people.